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CASSIO
Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, Iago, my reputation!
CASSIO
My reputation, my reputation! I’ve lost my reputation, the longest-living and truest part of myself! Everything else in me is just animal-like. Oh, my reputation, Iago, my reputation!

IAGO
As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some bodily wound. There is more sense in that than in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false imposition, oft got without merit and lost without deserving. You have lost no reputation at all unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man, there are ways to recover the general again. You are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his offenseless dog to affright an imperious lion. Sue to him again and he’s yours.
IAGO
I swear I thought you meant you’d been hurt physically. Your physical health matters more than your reputation. A reputation is a useless and fake quality that others impose on us. You haven’t lost it unless you think you have. There are lots of ways to get on the general’s good side again. You’ve been discharged because he’s angry, and because he’s obliged to do so for policy reasons, not because he dislikes you. He’s got to beat up the weak to frighten the strong. Go to him, petition him. He’ll change his mind.

CASSIO
I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so indiscreet an officer. Drunk? And speak parrot? And squabble? Swagger? Swear? And discourse fustian with one’s own shadow? O thou invisible spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, let us call thee devil!
CASSIO
I’d rather ask him to hate me than ask such a good commander to accept such a worthless, drunk, stupid officer as myself. Drunk? Babbling senselessly? Squabbling? Swaggering? Swearing? Ranting and raving to my own shadow! Oh, wine is the devil!

IAGO
What was he that you followed with your sword? What had he done to you?
IAGO
Who were you chasing with your sword? What did he do to you?

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CASSIO
I know not.
CASSIO
I don’t know.

IAGO
Is ’t possible?
IAGO
Is that possible?

CASSIO
I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly. A quarrel, but nothing wherefore. Oh, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! That we should, with joy, pleasance revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts!
CASSIO
I remember a jumble of impressions, but nothing distinctly. I remember a fight, but not why we were fighting. Oh God, why do men drink and lose their minds? Why do we party until we’re like animals?

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